


The Hazard of The Den

by PeppermintDream



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, F/M, Gambling, Gaming Hell, bet, hair play, losing bet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:28:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21543043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppermintDream/pseuds/PeppermintDream
Summary: “Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy, please.” Hermione ran after him. “Please, sir. I’ve made a mistake.”Lucius whirled around, his coattails hitting against her legs. “Where is your time turner now, Ms. Granger? It is too late. You shall report here tomorrow at noon. Good day.”
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 18
Kudos: 58





	1. The Debt

Hermione's disclaimer: This was never supposed to happen. I never lose. It started off so innocently; I needed money to support my new charity, A Book for Every Magical Child. Then my luck ran out.

************************************

“It’s foolproof. George even reviewed it. It’s perfect. Just sign right here, Mione.” Ron said.

She had signed. The loan had kept A Book for Every Magical Child afloat, for the first year.

************************************

Lucius descended the marble imperial staircase at his measured pace. His gloved hand ran along the polished wood banister while he gently held his cane in the other. He looked just as Hermione remembered him from Flourish and Blotts all those years ago. Now he was ruling over his illegal, very public gaming hell, The Den.

“Miss Granger, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“Mr. Malfoy, may we have this discussion in private?”

“Of course. This way.”

He led her up the grand stairs, deep into a hallway, and to his office door. “My office, after you.” He held open the door for her.

“Please, sit. Miss Granger. What would you like to discuss?”

“I...I am here to discuss this debt.” Hermione pushed the parchment across the desk to him.

“Yes. It is quite considerable.”

Lucius pulled out his ledger. “At present, the amount is 66,428 galleons.”

Hermione rubbed her forehead and sighed. She could hear the cheers from the Hazard tables below her. How did she end up here? She had gambled her life many times, but she never wagered for money. She loathed risk for so little possible gain.

"The initial loan from the Ministry provided no interest for the first year, and then inflation rate interest only as part of the Post-War Orphanages and Charities Loan Act." Hermione stated.

"Yes. I understand the original terms, but when the Conservatives retook the Ministry of Magic legislative body your Act was repealed. Your loan debt was sold. Now it belongs to me."

Hermione looked down at her purple silk dress and tried to smooth out the wrinkles. She felt underdressed in this lavish Wizarding London townhouse. "I would like to negotiate terms."

"Please proceed, Miss Granger."

"I can offer 5% annual interest on the loan with payments over 30 years."

"That would be a very poor return on my investment, and I am not in the charity business. I am willing to exchange monetary reductions in your loan amount for your time however." Lucius calmly stated.

"How would I be spending my time in exchange?" Hermione asked trying to understand what he really wanted.

"It is all detailed in the contract, here." Lucius presented her with a thick scroll. "You would be spending your weekends here serving me for the next year. Please know this deal will become unavailable after midnight."

Hermione scrolled through the contract. She only had minutes to spare. "What about a bet? You win and I agree to this contract. I win and you accept my original offer."

"Cards, wheel, or dice, Miss Granger?" Lucius asked

"Dice."

"Very well." Lucius pulled out a tray of dice from behind his desk. "Witch's choice."

Hermione picked a red and blue square die. She took out her wand and tested it for tampering charms. She may have also put a nonverbal winning charm on the die as well.

"What color?" Lucius asked.

"Red." Hermione said certainly.

"Then I call blue." Lucius proclaimed, and rolled the die across the desk. "Blue."

"What?!?!" Hermione said, startled.

"Sign here, Miss Granger." He passed her a quill and the contract. Hermione, in shock, signed.

"Place you ankle here." Lucius unlocked his desk drawer and pulled out a red velvet box. "Here, now." Lucius rapped on the desk.

Hermione complied. Lucius clasped the anklet. It was platinum with emeralds nesting in the chain and dripping down. The clasp disappeared as soon as it was closed. The clocks chimed midnight, and Lucius stood up and started walking towards the stairs. Hermione started to follow him many shocked seconds later.

“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy, please.” Hermione ran after him. “Please, sir. I’ve made a mistake.”

Lucius whirled around, his coattails hitting against her legs. “Where is your time turner now, Ms. Granger? It is too late. You shall report here tomorrow at noon. Good day.”


	2. The First Day

Hermione had gone home to her flat and tried to distract herself with a book so she could sleep. While a good plan, her efforts were futile. After two teapots worth of tea, she charmed last night’s dress teal and clean. She apparated to The Den at exactly 11:55 AM, took a deep breath, and officially began her year long settlement.

The front door opened itself for her. The Den was empty, and she retraced her steps to Malfoy’s office. His office door also opened and quickly closed her into his office. Lucius was casually reading the Daily Prophet. He carefully placed the newspaper down on his desk and motioned for Hermione to sit in the chair across from him. “Good morning, Miss Granger.”

“Good morning, Mr. Malfoy.” Hermione replied automatically. 

“Today you will observe. Silently. On a future day, as a reward, some of your questions may be asked.” Lucuis said in clipped tones. “At the start of the day, I review the inventory and gaming floor ledgers. Saturday night is our busiest and most lucrative time so we must be prepared. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Clearly you do not.” Lucius quipped. 

Hermione bristled and blushed, but wisely said nothing more. She sat and watched Malfoy’s hands gracefully sign scroll after scroll. Abruptly, Malfoy said, “Luncheon is served at one, every day.” He snapped his fingers and an elf appeared, “Miny, add a seat for Miss Granger at luncheon.” The elf nodded and disappeared. 

Lucius led Hermione down the hall to a large, elegant dining room set for two. A large mirror at the end of the room showed the now empty gaming floor below. Hermione settled into a green plush velvet chair and tried to decide if he would let her eat.

He did let her eat, silently. After lunch, Lucuis had her follow him down to the end of the hallway, up a staircase to the third floor lined with door after door. He opened a red and gold door and motioned for Hermione to enter. She gasped. There was a tea table all set with a couch and chaise surrounding and on the other side of the room was a massive canopy bed with a woman dressed in a dressing gown with Marabou trim reading the day’s horoscope column. She rose from the bed and came to great them, “Mr. Malfoy.”

Lucius gestured towards the woman. “This is Madam Leoda.”

“I’m Hermione Granger. It’s nice to meet you.” Hermione said extending her hand to the Madam. The Madam remained still. Lucius stepped closer to Hermione and asked, “What is your one order today, Miss Granger?” 

“To be sil……” Hermione stopped mid-word, and her face became red. 

Lucius summoned an English dictionary. “Review the definition of ‘silent’ as well as ‘quiet,’ ‘soundless,’ and ‘obedient.’ Sit there, mutely.” Lucius pointed at the couch. 

Hermione dutifully reviewed the words in the dictionary while listening to the discussion. 

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Vivian was successful last night. I think if not his wife, then certainly the rest of the family will find it compelling. I do not have any update on Claudia, but I will soon.” said Madam Leoda.

“I wish you a good night, Madam Leoda.” Lucius gestured for Hermione to follow his as he walked to the door. 

When they reached the stairs Hermione said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy. I was just trying to be polite.”  Lucius turned around and took the dictionary from her hand and said, “Useless” vanishing the dictionary. He looked into her eyes, “You will walk the remaining 500 steps to my office without saying a word, do you understand?” Hermione nodded her head. She did make it back into his office without saying another word, miraculously. 

“I think you need something physical. A real reminder of my order.” Malfoy transfigured his handkerchief into a long silk scarf. “Come closer. Stand here.” He pointed down at his feet. He manhandled Hermione until her back was pressed to his chest. He brought the scarf up to her mouth and tied it into a bow at the back of her head, squishing her curls. Hermione froze. He was so solid and strong. He smelled like parchment and something much deeper, darker.

“Better.” Malfoy stated, and he sat down at his desk to work on his correspondence. Hermione eventually came back to reality. She sat back into the chair she had been assigned across from him.

Hermione had read all the book titles in his office she could see from her chair, studied the Romantic landscape paintings, and had started to estimate the value of all the objects in the room when Lucuis finally motioned her over to him. He sat her on the armrest of his chair, and he slowly undid the bow holding the scarf. “Be back here at noon. We shall see how you handle more complex orders then. I think many corrections will be necessary after today’s show of disobedience on the simplest of commands. Good night.”


	3. The Positions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks TheTVJunkie for the review and motivation to update :)

Hermione had no memory of traveling home. “Oh, my head.” She grumbled and walked to the fridge. She settled into her couch and woke up in the same spot the next morning, at least she had slept this time. 

She ran her usual Sunday errands: bookshops, grocer, and the Magical Menagerie. She looked every week for a new familiar, someone who really touched her heart. She studied all the cats, forcing herself to really look at them, to no avail.

Hermione rushed to The Den as her visit to Diagon Alley took longer than planned. She walked through the doors at exactly 11:58 am. The adrenaline that surged through Hermione as she had raced to his office evaporated as she entered it. She stood waiting for his acknowledgement. She felt empty, and thankfully silent. 

“Good morning, Miss Granger.” Lucius drawled.

Hermione nodded her head in response. 

“So she remembers, good. Today you are not required to be silent. Today you will hold positions. I will assign you a position, and you will stay that way until I say otherwise. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy.”

Hermione managed to survive luncheon without incident, and they returned to Mr. Malfoy’s office.

“Sit in the middle of the sofa with your feet flat on the floor.”

Still trying to make up for yesterday, Hermione nodded and positioned herself on the more stylish than comfortable sofa. She tried to patiently wait and returned to her estimation of the room’s contents value. She thought the peacock feathers would have been free from his estate, so should they be included in the estimation?

“Miss Granger!” Lucuis commanded.

“Yes!” Hermione said startled from her reverie.

“Welcome back. Now.” Lucius pointed his wand in front of her feet. Hermione shifted away from his wand path. Malfoy glared at her and gestured for her to settle back in her position. He conjured a low tea table with white and blue china tea set. Hermione sighed in relief resulting in additional glares from Malfoy. “You will prepare and serve me tea everyday you are here at four. I will instruct you now on how it is to be done. You will remember and repeat exactly as I instruct you.” He proceeded to direct her in explicit detail. Hermione would need hours in a pensive to memorize and recreate the particular way Malfoy wanted his tea to be brewed and presented. This was clearly an almost impossible challenge. “Any questions?” Malfoy asked haughtily.

Hermione stared at the twelve cups filled with failed attempts and shook her head. 

“Good. You will carry the tea to my desk and set it two inches from the desk edge closest to my chair and perfectly centered.” Hermione levitated the tea as she was too concerned her hands would shake and spill. Hermione smiled at her success as Lucius had no snide commentary on her tea placement. 

“Your next position will be more challenging. Your head shall not be higher than mine. Proceed.” 

Hermione was puzzled and shocked, but she managed to make herself sit in “her” chair across from his desk. He nodded at her acceptingly while drinking his tea. She was back contemplating the yardage required for his deep, almost black, emerald drapes when she noticed he was walking past her towards the sofa. She waited, not wanting to stand at first. Then she realized she would not be able to stand once he sat, then stood and followed him quickly. He sat on the sofa which had not seemed that low before. Her options were to sit next to him on the sofa which he dominated, the tea table, the floor, or to face his displeasure. She vacillated, but decided the floor was preferable. She sat on her feet so her dress covered her knees and calves. 

“Come closer. You will sit at my feet.” Hermione blanked with shock then started to stand to move towards him.

“No, Miss Granger. Your head must not be higher than mine.” She blanched and realized what he wanted, for her to crawl to him. She took several deep breaths before deciding to crawl. Her embarrassment made her crawl speedy, and she settled in front of his feet. Lucius wrapped his hands around her waist from behind and dragged her so her back touched his legs. “Much better. Now be still.” 

Hermione gasped at his touch as he ever so gently gathered up her hair in his hands. “What are you doing?”

“You know, Miss Granger, most wizards don’t allow their witches to wear their hair down in public, especially at your age.” Hermione huffed preparing a speech on how they were no longer living in the Victorian period, but Lucius hushed her. “Now, now Miss Granger. I know you are unfamiliar with our customs, but I am here to remedy that.” He continued gently moving her curls to expose the back of her neck. “I cannot have you seen by patrons with your hair down. They might get the wrong idea.” Hermione thought back to Madame Leoda and shivered.

Lucius retrieved handfuls of emerald topped hair pins from his jacket. He took three curls at a time and carefully pinned the curls to her head. Hermione shifted closer to his hands unknowingly. He was so gentle. He continued until all her curls formed an elegant updo highlighting, not hiding, her curls. Lucius tapped his wand on the updo causing Hermione to shiver. “Just a freezing spell. I don’t want my effort waisted.” He placed his hand on the back of her neck and whispered into her right ear. “You will keep your hair up traveling to and from my office. The hair pins, like the anklet, are on loan to you. I would hate for you to be in deeper debt to me.” He gave a low chuckle.

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy.” Hermione mumbled bonelessly. She felt like she had melted into a puddle.

“Good. You will follow three steps behind me as we tour the gaming floors before tonight’s main event.”

He was at the doorway before Hermione started to scramble to follow him. She was very excited to see the gaming tables up close. They were said to be lavish and irresistible.


	4. The Floor

Malfoy stopped suddenly at the end of the stairs causing Hermione to almost crash into him. He turned and hummed at her, evaluating. He conjured a black birdcage veil and secured it to Hermione’s hair covering her eyes. “Ready, Miss Granger?” he asked.

“I suppose.” she said nonchalantly. Hermione was secretly excited to finally see the floor up close. No pictures were ever publicized. She promised herself she would remain calm and collected.

He opened the door and beckoned for her to follow. It was extravagant. Hermione wondered at the expansion charms needed to fit this many gaming tables inside the townhouse’s narrow width. He stopped at a massive, dark wood table inlaid with gold topped with green velvet. “I put in a double zero roulette wheel here – American Muggles at their finest.”

Hermione nodded uncertainly at the comment but mentally filed it to research later. 

“Clearly, you are unqualified to oversee game integrity and prevent cheating after your dice stunt. As you can not be trusted working the floor, or even alone on the floor, you will be with me at all times on the floor.” She followed him past the tables through the buffet dining rooms into the large open ballroom. “We will host gaming events with dinner and other recreational activities to raise money to support disadvantaged wizarding children here.”

Hermione bristled at the idea of being publicly associated with Malfoy and parties. She hated parties. Drunk people asking invasive questions, no thanks, and they cut into her reading time. Malfoy noticed her distaste.

“Your presence will lend credibility and sincerity.”

“I’ve avoided attending the charity balls and galas my 'hero' status has granted me invitations to. People will be highly suspicious of me hosting them, let alone with you.”

“Your presence is not required to be genuinely sincere. My guests are only interested in appearances: theirs, mine,” He pauses, “yours, and the facade of charity will be exciting new additions to them. It will allow them to drink, gamble, and whore for the good of the poor children.”

“I want nothing to do with those people! Which is exactly why I never go.” Hermione huffed.

“Your debt is to be paid as a salary on the 365 day of your service to me. The charitable portion from the events will go straight to your poor dears the very next day. Think of all the extra books to warm their little hearts.”

“Why? You already have the Ministry back in your pocket. You cannot fully regain you standing running, this!” Hermione gestures at the ceiling. “You cannot possibly believe you could regain your Hogwarts Governers position. What is your interest?”

“My interest? It is always the Malfoy family, our legacy. Our standing must be secured. Scorpius must be welcomed at Hogwarts. I know you would hate any child from feeling unwelcome.”

Hermione grumbled her agreement to the last sentiment. “Every child should be welcomed at Hogwarts.” She paused. “How does this help him, exactly?”

Lucius danced around the question.“You are untarnished, a true crusader for your causes, and war heroine. Who could resist a chance to see you amongst the decadence and dark pleasures of The Den? And who could resist you championing for equality and respect at Hogwarts?” 

“I will not blindly endorse this.” She gestured around her. “Or you. What you are doing is clearly illegal.”

“The legality should not be a concern. That is well handled. There will be no press, no photos. Everything that happens in The Den is private. Think of this as a tax on the most wealthy. You will be taking their money and giving it to children in need.”

“How can you possibly guarantee privacy? And what is the draw if it’s not public?”

“The honor of the invitation gives the recipient power, access to a select few other powerful players. These people don’t want their business on the front page of the Prophet. They use this space to negotiate. No one wants their negotiations public. There are measures in place, but they are in my particular confidence. You must understand. I hear you once solved a similar problem with a certain pimple spell.”

“I don’t agree.”

“You have already agreed.” He pulls the contract scroll from his pocket, dangling it over her. 


End file.
